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Fake Smiles. That is all they were. Fake bloody smiles. In her nightmares, that is all she could see. All she cared about.
Each and every night, she would fall asleep, allowing the darkness of her thoughts to break through into her dreams. The darkness she tried so hard to ignore during the day. She would be surrounded by fallen friends and family but her two best friends would be the ones she would focus on.
They would look the same as they always did.
Severus Snape would still have the gaping bloody hole in his throat from the damn snake who killed him.
Albus Dumbledore would have a hole blasted into his chest where the killing curse slammed into him.
And Minerva McGonagall would be staring at their fake smiles with a horrified expression.
Then, Minerva McGonagall would open her eyes to join reality again. To stare up at the ceiling in her quarters deep within the walls of Hogwarts. The walls were still healing, even a year after the final battle of the second wizarding world. As Headmistress she could sense Hogwarts still in mourning. Could sense the damage still needing to be repaired. The environment still needed to grow back before the war burned them. Especially around Hagrid's hut.
Her eyes would tear up. Not because of the damage, not because of the growing stress of running Hogwarts, no. No, she teared up at the thought of her best friends. Her best friends lost their lives just because of a lunatic liar hellbent on living forever.
Their fake smiles burned into her memories. Smiles that she knew far too well.
---
(Year: 1974)
Severus Snape had never been a happy child.
That was plainly obvious during Severus's third year.
She had been doing patrol late at night when she stopped at the sound of a child crying. She came to a stop just before a bend in the corridor when the sniffs hit her as the sounds of someone in deep distress. Then, a loud bang of something hitting the wall before a wail of agony, or distress, or emotional pain sounded. She was ready to help. She began to turn to the next corridor when she came to an abrupt stop before she could be visible.
There was a boy. A boy was dark greasy hair, wearing a Slytherin uniform, stood in the middle of the dark corridor. His thin body was shaking with grief as his hands clenched a letter in his hands. He briefly looked up from the letter to the old potions book he slammed into the wall beside him, a few meters away.
"Abandoned." He muttered. He gently let go of the letter. Letting it fall like a feather to the ground. He clenched his hands again. He looked towards the ceiling with restrained tears falling down his cheeks. Allowing her to see the young broken face of Severus Snape.
"Why am I always abandoned?" He muttered. He waited. Waited for an answer from anyone. Not that anyone, that he knew of, was around. He sucked in a deep shaky breath before looking back down to the paper as if it was poison. A small smile grew on his face. A smile that wasn't happy. A smile that was clearly forced.
"Mother said...It would get better. She had to be right. She has to be right..."
Severus kept the fake smile on his face as he turned to one of the big windows lining one side of the corridor, allowing those who passed a chance to see the beautiful landscape around the large looming school.
"...But Mom is dead, you idiot."
Severus spat out the insult to himself. He looked a sideways glance at the potions book.
"I killed Mother."
Severus's fake smile slowly fell. Before he moved to stand against the wall between the windows. His eyes never left the book on the ground as he slide down against the wall to the floor with a large sob.
"I killed her, I killed her, I killed her."
Minerva didn't know how to respond. She wanted to help but...
But...
She was a Gryffindor.
A Slytherin would never trust a foolish Gryfindor.
A Gryfindor would never help a slimy lying Slytherin.
But he was a child...
A child who claimed he killed his own mother.
"It h-has to be better. It can't get worse than this, it just c-can't."
The sad fake smile returned with tears still streaming down his cheeks as he brought his knees to his chest. As a Slytherin boy tried to convince himself with fake happiness that everything would get better. It just had to.
"It just can't."
Minerva felt her heart breaking.
---
(Year: 1997)
There it was.
Albus was giving her his usual fake smile again. He had been doing that a lot lately. Especially since the school year started. She could tell by the lack of twinkle behind his eyes, the lack of enthusiasm to back it up. She didn't miss Severus's expression either as his eyes briefly flickered to Albus's black withering hand behind him.
"Albus, what aren't you telling me?"
"I assure you, Minerva. I am telling the absolute truth." Albus raised his blackened hand slightly. "It was simply an accident. Severus is working hard on a cure. If anyone can find a way to end this, he can."
Minerva watched both of them like a hawk.
Why did Albus look so unsure? Why did he look so defeated?
Why did Severus look sick? Why can't Severus make eye contact with Albus or her?
"Severus," Minerva said slowly. "How is the cure coming along?"
Severus's eyes flickered in rapid movement of nervousness between Albus and his hand. He straightened his posture and took in a deep breath with a half-hearted smirk that, again, was fake. She had gotten far too good at identifying it. Despite both of their best efforts at pretending everything was fine.
"It is going well." His face fell slightly as if he was about to genuinely gag at his own words. He finally made eye contact and his eyes seemed to have been pleading with her to uncover some secret hidden in their conversation. "I should have the cure by June."
Albus Dumbledore was murdered by Severus Snape on June 30th, 1997.
She didn't consider death to be the cure at the time.
"It will be fine, Minerva. You will see, my dear."
---
Minerva didn't want to think about them. She pushed herself up from her bed, groaning slightly in pain as her old body fought against her. She welcomed the pain. It was much better than reflecting.
She didn't want to reflect on how her two best friends lied to her.
She didn't want to consider how badly she treated Severus during his last year of life.
She didn't want to know how the curse hurt Albus.
She didn't want to reflect on their smiles. Smiles that never left her nightmares. Smiles that were clearly forced.
Smiles that held dark secrets.
Secrets, that if released, could have saved at least one of them before their lives came to a violent end.
Fake smiles.
Fake smiles ruined her life.
---The End---